by Davis, Jo
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Favorite food? Pet peeve?”
“Hmm. Okay, I love baby back ribs. I’d kill for a rack of those smothered with Jack Daniel’s barbecue sauce right now.” His stomach rumbled and she grinned.
“Obviously. We’ll have to do something about that. What else?”
“I hate pasta.”
“That’s not normal.”
“I know. But it’s slimy. Blech.” He thought for a few seconds. “That’s not nearly as strange as my pet peeve; I don’t like clowns.”
Cori laughed out loud, struggling to keep her attention on the road. “That’s just weird, Zack. Clowns?”
“As a kid, they seriously freaked me out.” He sighed. “Why doesn’t anyone but me think there’s something creepy about a grown man dressing in a clown suit and makeup? I mean, remember John Wayne Gacy?”
Goose bumps broke out on Cori’s arms. “Point taken.”
“Your turn.”
“All right. Pizza rocks. Hate liver. There’s something really disgusting about eating an organ that used to filter bile.”
“Well, thanks a million for that image.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s see, pet peeves. I have a few. Ten weenies in a package, but only eight buns. Okay, that’s only a figurative reference, but you get the drift. Stupid concepts bug me.”
“Then I’ll be careful not to reveal any dumb ideas around you,” he said wryly. “What about your family? Do they live around here?”
“I have three obnoxious, overbearing older brothers. Which is why they live on the East Coast and I live here.”
“Ah. Overprotective, are they?”
Cori rolled her eyes. “They almost drove me insane after our mother died, especially my oldest brother. He kept his thumb squashed down on me so hard, I did something unbelievably stupid to get out from under his iron rule.”
“Which was?”
“I got married.” She glanced at Zack to see how he’d absorbed that tidbit. He simply nodded, a sage expression on his face.
“It didn’t work out,” he guessed.
“No.”
Zack’s eyes narrowed. “Does your ex still bother you?”
“Hardly.” She swallowed hard, weighing the wisdom of opening the door on the awful pain. The guilt. Once she did, there was no turning back. “My oldest brother killed him,” she said, her voice almost inaudible.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus Christ. You mean like . . .”
“In my defense. Alex had beaten me nearly to death and my brother caught him in the act. The grand jury chose not to indict.” Cori gripped the steering wheel tighter to hide the shakes. Zack was the only other person besides Shea with whom Cori had ever shared the darkest period in her life. Because sharing it also meant lying to those she’d come to care about, and it hurt too badly to do it.
“You know, that story is one best told over a long evening involving lots of alcohol,” she said.
“Understood. And as you said to me, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
Unexpected tears rushed to her eyes. This man wore his kindness as easily as his clothing. And, oh, God, she could get addicted to the whole package that was Zack Knight.
“Thanks.” She sniffed and cleared her throat. “What about you? Where’s your family?”
The instant the words left her mouth, she inwardly cursed herself for being an idiot. But there was no taking them back without revealing what she already knew.
“My father is in a nursing home,” he said, surprising her. “He suffered a stroke last year and is basically a vegetable. He has waking periods, but he’s like an infant. Has to be fed, diapered.”
“Oh, Zack, I’m so sorry. What about your mother?”
He shrugged. “I never knew her. My father had lots of women in his heyday. One of them literally left me on his doorstep. Tests proved I was his, and he raised me by himself. Turn here.”
His voice was tense, controlled, as though giving a highly edited version of the story. Much like hers. She could hardly blame him for not wanting to open a vein.
Cori made the turn into a low-income neighborhood, each home more dilapidated than the last. Minutes later, as she pulled into his apartment complex, she blinked in astonishment, striving to keep the dismay from showing on her face. How could Zack—anyone—live in a dump like this?
A sagging roof that should’ve been replaced a decade ago and was missing a ton of shingles. Overgrown hedges that covered first-floor windows. Most of the windows visible on all three floors lacked screens, and many were broken or cracked.
The sidewalk was buckled and faded toys littered the muddy areas where grass refused to grow. Cigarette butts were strewn everywhere. Peeling paint that might have been any color at one time curled and flaked, like a skin disease with no cure.
A group of older teens wearing hooded sweatshirts lurked between two buildings, oblivious to the miserable cold. A wad of green and a small packet exchanged hands.
This wretched, filthy hellhole was not where someone wanted to be caught after sundown.
Expression closed, Zack pointed to a building on the far end, next to the complex’s office. “Park over there. I’m on the second floor.”
She did, and they got out, hunching their shoulders against the freezing wind and light mist that had started moments ago. Zack started to cough, and she worried about him being out in this weather, in his condition. Did his apartment have enough heat? If not, he’d find himself right back in the hospital.
“You don’t have to come up.” Clearing his throat, he studied the ground as they walked. The words were underscored with steel, and a touch of fierce pride.
He didn’t want her to see the inside of his apartment, and she hurt for him. She didn’t care what his place looked like; she cared about Zack. But now wasn’t the time to press the issue.
“I’ll just walk you to the door, if that’s okay. I’ve got to run.” She didn’t, but the lie gave him a way to salvage his pride.
His shoulders relaxed. “Sure. I’ll call you later?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t, handsome.”
He smiled, ducked his head.
The smile vanished as they reached the second-floor landing. She followed him along the breezeway, wondering what on earth had him all tense when she’d just managed to lighten his mood.
He halted, and she nearly bumped into his back. “This is your pad, huh?”
Zack went dead still. She moved to his side, a chill of dread washing through her. His face paled and he stared at the door. Swaying on his feet, he plucked off a square of pink paper that had been taped to the surface.
He stared at the paper for several long moments, in shock.
His hoarse voice emerged as a whisper.
“No. I don’t live here anymore.”
7
Zack crushed the eviction notice in his hand. He wasn’t surprised. Had known this was coming, in fact. But he hadn’t planned on a witness to his latest humiliation.
Hadn’t planned on Cori.
He turned his back to the wall and leaned against it, buried his face in his hands. The paper fluttered to the concrete.
Broke and homeless. God, what a pathetic joke.
Think, genius. What now? Where will you go?
“What . . .”
A paper rustled, and he lowered his hands to see Cori holding the notice, jaw dropping in astonishment.
“They’re kicking you out? No way!”
If she only knew. “Seems you have to pay them to live here. How picky is that?”
“But—they let drug dealers stay here,” Cori sputtered, indignant.
“Drug dealers have money. Hey, maybe those punks will set me up with a side job?” He laughed at his own pitiful joke, which ended in a round of coughing. Better than crying, though.
Scowling, she crushed the slip, tossed it over her shoulder. “Dammit, this isn’t right! Didn’t they even give yo
u a grace period?”
Zack hung his head. “I’m two and a half months behind. When I couldn’t pay on January the first, the manager gave me an extension until the fifteenth. Which I missed, because I was in the hospital.” Not that it made a difference. He was living on borrowed time, no money in his checking account.
“Oh.”
One blow after another. Could it get any worse?
She straightened her spine with purpose, pinning him with her amber gaze. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“I . . .” His face heated. Yeah, things could definitely get worse.
“Well, you do now. You’re staying with me.”
He bit back a bitter retort. Didn’t every self-respecting man love to be bailed out of trouble by the woman he’d die to call his own?
Might as well slice his balls off and let her use them for fuzzy dice on her rearview mirror.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t impose on you.”
“What? Like you have a better option?” Arching a slim brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. Zack tried not to stare at how the position hiked up her bosom as she went on. “Who are you going to call? Your buddies at the station? You want them all here, in your business, making sympathetic noises until you puke?”
Which Cori hadn’t done, to his immense relief. He studied her, rubbing his aching chest. God, she was right. Firefighters were a brotherhood. If one was in trouble, they banded together. One phone call and word of Zack’s problems would spread like wildfire. The only man he trusted to keep this on the down-low was Six-Pack, and he wasn’t about to intrude on the lieutenant’s newly wedded bliss.
But he couldn’t accept. The words wouldn’t form.
Cori sighed. “Okay. The truth is, my motives aren’t completely altruistic. As wimpy as this sounds, I’d feel better having a man staying with me right now.”
“Because of the weird van sightings and the noises at night? I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She shook her head, eyes liquid. Her fear ground into his gut like jagged glass and he straightened, gripping her shoulders. “Something else did happen Friday night. Tell me.”
Her lips trembled. “When I got home from visiting you, it was late. When I stepped onto the porch, a man was waiting for me.”
“Sonofabitch,” he gasped, cupping her sweet face. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“No. I ran, but he didn’t chase me. I’m fine.”
Cori wasn’t “fine.” A bad night, she’d said. In his worst nightmare, he’d never expected her to be targeted by a stalker. He couldn’t imagine her terror, and a knot of cold rage began to form in his stomach.
“What did the police say?” Gently, he stroked her smooth cheeks with his thumbs, needing to touch her. Reassure himself that she was okay.
“That I’d probably surprised a burglar and scared him off before he had a chance to break in.” She gave a watery laugh. “I haven’t been home since.”
“Where have you been sleeping? A hotel?”
“My friend Shea loaned me her sofa. She sent her brother to my house yesterday for a change of clothes. I’m going home today.”
Zack frowned. “Who’s her brother?” He didn’t like the idea of a strange man poking through her house. “How do you know he’s not the one behind all of this?”
She smiled at his protective tone. “Shane Ford is a homicide detective with the Sugarland PD. I doubt he’s our creep. They’re twins. Shea and Shane. Cute, huh?”
“If your friend’s brother is a cop, can’t he do something? Put some pressure on his buddies to investigate?”
“Homicide, hell-oo. I’m not Shane’s problem until after I’m dead.”
“Jesus, that’s not funny. Come here.” What he knew about women could fit inside a speck of DNA, but he figured frightened women needed comforting. Especially this one. By him.
Zack pulled her into his arms and she went willingly. He tucked her head against his shoulder and she burrowed inside his coat. Warm and soft. Breasts crushed against his chest, hands clutching his back. Breath fanning against his collarbone. All woman.
All mine.
And just like that, the universe rearranged itself. Nothing was more important than Cori, sheltered in his arms. Nobody had the right to frighten her. No man would touch her while his heart still beat in his chest.
Emotions surged, wild and confusing, filling the vast emptiness. Like a hurricane, the onslaught shook his foundations, almost painful in its intensity. And in the wake of that foreign invasion, something dark and dangerous. Ugly.
The desire to wrap his hands around the throat of the person responsible for causing her pain, and squeeze the life from his worthless body.
Cori tipped her face up and he brought his mouth down on hers. There was nothing tentative about his kiss and from the way she melted into him, she didn’t seem to mind. Groaning, ignoring the throb in his bruised face, he drank her like a man dying of thirst. Plunged his tongue into her moist heat the way he’d love to slide his cock between her thighs. Brand her with his touch, give her what he’d never given another woman. Ruin her for another man.
Mine.
She broke the kiss, eyes dancing with humor. Fear abated. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“I forgot the question.”
“You’ll stay with me?”
He tightened his arms around her. Kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes.” Another brush of lips. “Yes.”
“Good. Let’s grab your things and make tracks. It’s cold out here.”
“Best idea I’ve ever heard.”
But his key no longer fit the lock. Not surprising, but definitely frustrating. Zack offered Cori his arm and they walked to the office together, the one place he’d hoped to avoid. He started to cough again and it made his lungs burn. His head ached and he felt dizzy. Funny, he’d been pretty darned revved while kissing the stuffing out of Cori. If only his tired body would cooperate with his libido.
In the dingy little office, the manager stared at Zack from across her ancient desk for about three seconds before bursting into harsh, gravelly laughter that shook her skinny frame and revealed a mouthful of yellowed teeth.
“You want your shit? By all means, take it.” Apparently enjoying this, she pointed to a cardboard box beside her desk.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Where’s the rest?”
“Sold to cover your back rent,” she said, blowing a stream of cigarette smoke in the general direction of his face. “Saved your uniforms, a few toiletries, and some papers that looked important.”
“How kind of you.” Do not strangle her.
“Have a nice life, kid.”
Not trusting himself to say another word, he hefted the box and walked out. He ought to be grateful the vile old biddy had saved his work clothes. God knew he didn’t need to give Tanner another reason to gnaw on his ass.
Cori opened the trunk and he stashed the box inside. They slid into the car and fastened their seat belts. Cori shot him a glance as she fired the engine. “Holy crap, there was a freaking bullet hole in the wall behind that woman’s head!”
“Too bad they missed,” he muttered, then felt bad for saying it. That miserable old woman probably had it ten times rougher than Zack on his worst day.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He smiled, feeling strangely liberated.
“Anyway, I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I’m glad I’m not leaving you here.” She made a face.
“To tell you the truth, I’m very cool with letting the cockroaches have this place. Can’t wait to be gone.” With you.
Okay. Maybe this was one of those Big Signs from Above like you read about. Destiny and all that woo-woo shit. Chicken poop to chicken soup. Right?
The drive was nice, her company wonderful. But as they neared Sugarland, the greasy knot in his stomach returned, becoming heavier with every mile. When Cori turned onto Neptune Road and headed deeper into the rural cou
ntryside, Zack started to feel a little queasy.
Cori had said she lived on the outskirts of Sugarland, just not exactly where. Of all the dozens of roads in Cheatham County, why this one?
“Wait until you see my place,” she said, warming to the topic. His companion’s excitement visibly escalated as his sense of doom grew, and she chattered on, unaware.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful out here—well, aside from my unexpected visitor the other night. The house sits off the road about fifty yards, and it has this great deck out back that overlooks the woods and a pretty creek. Someone put a salt block at the base of a tree close to the water, and the deer gather there almost every morning and evening. If I’m real quiet, I can slip outside, drink my coffee, and watch them.”
Zack went numb. All over. “Sounds . . . fantastic.”
“Oh, you have no idea!”
Yeah, he thought he might. When she slowed and turned down the long, winding drive, he averted his face. Stared out the window so she wouldn’t see the anguish struggling to escape the compressed little knot in his chest. Sure, Delacruz had immediately sold his house for a tidy profit. In the back of his mind, Zack had known. But why did the buyer have to be Cori? The sucker punch was almost too much.
This could not be happening, yet here he was, come full circle. In that moment he felt like a ghost. A spectator in his own life, invisible to everyone around him.
Except Cori. He glanced at her, and the happiness radiating from her stilled the turmoil. His need to protect her—to preserve that glow—surged again. Hell, she’d been upset enough when he’d nearly bought the farm saving her life. No matter how painful it was keeping the truth locked inside, she must not find out.
Zack didn’t need the pity. And Cori didn’t deserve the misplaced guilt.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” She parked in front of the garage and shut off the ignition.
Zack summoned all the enthusiasm he could muster. “I’ll say. How long have you lived here?” Of course, he knew the answer.
“Just a few weeks. Sure beats the tiny apartment I had in town. Why don’t we put your stuff inside, and then I’ll give you the grand tour?”
Boy, he must’ve done something to piss off the gods. “Great.”
